The Littlest Warrior

As the Last Homely House began to settle down for the evening, visitors and residents alike headed to their rooms for the night. All, that is, except for two very thankful Lórien wardens, one who sat on the floor in the hallway leaning against the boy’s door, and the other who made himself comfortable draping his very long legs over the arm of a rather oversized chair. Little did they know that there were others who were of the same mind.

Slowly the connecting door between Estel and Elrohir’s rooms opened, and a pair of dark-haired, sword-wielding terrors peeked in. Throwing their pillows and blankets on the floor they made themselves comfortable beside the boy’s bed. As the house grew quiet, another dark figure with a simple agenda headed for Estel’s room. Under the cover of darkness the shrouded figure climbed the trellis under Estel’s window and settled himself on the boy’s balcony. As the moonlight drifted slowly across the terrace, he unrolled his blanket and made himself at home on the settee outside Estel’s terrace door. Finally, he positioned his unsheathed sword, Celebhîth, beside him and lay back pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.

‘Never again,’ he thought as he made himself comfortable…’never again will Estel be helpless and in danger’. “Rest easy this night my little warrior,” he whispered into the night air, “We are here.”

The End